


S et M

by lovelessly



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aftercare, Attempt at Humor, BDSM, Flogging, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-04
Packaged: 2017-12-31 05:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1027820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelessly/pseuds/lovelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(extremely old kink meme fill reposted here for archive purposes)</p>
<p>For the prompt - France/Austria - the origin of the term 'sadism' is from a Frenchman, the Marquis de Sade. The origin of 'masochism' is from Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, an Austrian man. What it says on the tin. One of the stupider ones I wrote, tbh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	S et M

Blindfolded, on his knees, his wrists encircled by handcuffs dangling from a chain attached to the ceiling, his skin otherwise exposed. Every lash of the whip scored his back with a line of agonizing fire, the sound of leather whistling through the air making him jerk upward in anticipation despite his determination to remain composed. The scent of perspiration and metal and cowhide, the iron tang of blood, the familiar sultry musk of the one wielding the whip, manifesting themselves as near visible flashes of color in his sightless world.

The rhythm was off, and he realized France was doing it on purpose early into the session. Each nanosecond that he hesitated caused Austria to grit his teeth in almost physical pain, and whenever he swung down just a fraction of a moment too soon, he was forced to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out in frustration. 

But France knew what he was doing, wringing out the most exquisite torture Austria could imagine, taunting him almost to the point of begging, then giving him the punishment his body craved. If he could call it punishment. Rather the opposite.

At last the flogging ceased, the whip sliding off his abused back and onto the floor with a satisfied rustle. Austria heard a soft, breathy chuckle, followed by clipped footsteps, made by staggeringly high-heeled boots, circling him. He cast about blindly, breathing harsh in his chest as he tried to pinpoint France’s location, heard the creak of tight leather and then felt the almost solid warmth of his body, no doubt covered with a light sheen of sweat from the recent exertion. Out of nowhere, something skimmed over his bare inner thigh, and Austria gasped as the riding crop paused at the base of his erection.

The crop teased up and down the underside of his swollen cock, tracing the vein skillfully, with just enough pressure to make him choke back a sob. He would not beg, oh, he would not, but he was no longer in control, was he?

“France… please. I have been good…” he muttered through clenched teeth.

Now the crop was brushing back and forth against the soaking wet tip, and Austria strained forward, seeking more friction, more pressure, anything, and did not feel surprised when the instrument was pulled away just as swiftly.

“Then you can wait a little more, mon chaton,” France replied smugly.

The silk blindfold was unknotted and tossed aside, and Austria looked up with reddened eyes, blinking. Before him, France stood at ease, the crop dangling in one gloved hand, a vision of domination in tight black pants laced up the sides, suspenders fallen off his shoulders some time ago, tall stiletto boots that suited him as well as any female. He stepped forward, causing Austria’s cock to twitch in readiness. Abandoning all pretense of dignity, Austria caught the cool blue gaze with his own eyes, silently pleading, “I want you, I want you inside of me, fucking me hard, please, Gott, please.”

The crop was raised again, and Austria almost flinched as it brushed against his cheek and then across his chewed lips. He lowered his eyes, trying to not look at his own flushed cock as France set the crop down. Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed gloved hands at the waistband of the obscenely low-cut pants, and against his will, his mouth began to water.

Obediently, Austria set his tongue to the cock offered to him, delicately wrapping thin lips around the hot thick flesh and suppressing a groan of appreciation. But as soon as he tried duck forward to take in more, France curled his hands into his hair, holding him still.

“Slowly, slowly,” he whispered. “There is plenty of me.”

Bit by bit, he was allowed to take in more, until his mouth and throat were so incredibly full and he could hear a soft moan of delight somewhere above. Austria began sucking and swallowing then, letting France use his mouth as he pleased, reveling in this carnal debasement, knowing, trusting his partner. To his dismay, France did not come on his face as he would have preferred, instead releasing deep into his throat with a shuddering cry, and Austria swallowed the saltiness with practiced ease. After a few moments to catch his breath, France pulled back, watching with half-closed eyes as Austria licked his lips clean of the semen.

“Is that all?” Austria remarked, as coolly and dryly as if he were criticizing a pianist’s performance.

“Non, there could be more.” France knelt down and cast an expert eye over Austria’s still erect cock, throbbing with ill-disguised need. “It seems that we are not finished yet, are we?” With a wicked grin, he ran his fingers lightly over the smooth pale chest, flicking over his nipples. “Tell me, what would you have me do next?”

“A-anything,” Austria managed to gasp out.

 

 

“That was…” Austria hesitated, searching for the perfect word.

“Fantastic?” France prompted in a silky voice. “Superb? Incomparable?”

“Sufficient.” France’s ego was overblown enough without having him confirm that it was indeed the most intense and pleasurable session he had experienced in decades. 

Lying on his stomach, Austria shifted under the gentle ministrations, while France murmured soothingly and dabbed at his back with a towel dipped into warm salty water. The pain transformed from something bright and sharp into a deep, satisfying ache, one he would feel for days later no matter how quickly the superficial cuts healed. Just the way he liked it.

“How do you feel? Really?”

“You refer to this?” Austria shrugged, sending another wave of pain and pleasure shooting through his nerves. “It is nothing. It is… better than I deserved.”

He expected a teasing, cutting remark that so typically characterized France and his never ending fount of cynicism. He did not expect the soft wet kiss at the nape of his neck, nor the cut-off whimper that emanated from his own throat.

France finished tending to him in silence, and Austria appreciated this care, this sensitivity. Making no move to stop him, he let him kiss his fingers and knuckles, and wrap his reddened, bruised wrists with clean bandages. So, so gently, as if they were lovers, it was almost enough to make him lose his composure again.

“Oh, and what shall I do with your pants, Austria?” France asked. “Put them in the laundry?”

“Certainly not. They are ruined. You have probably stretched them beyond repair.” Not to mention, such stains were difficult to get out of leather, and he would not have Hungary stumbling upon them if possible.

“My dear, are you implying that I am fat? Au contraire, this,” France gestured haughtily over his bared thighs, “is all muscle.”

Supporting himself on his elbows, Austria looked over his glasses at France critically. “I think I will be the judge of that.”

“Is that so? What else must I do to convince you?” he purred, his grin widening even further.

Austria sat up slowly, to avoid any dizziness, and there was the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Assist me to the bedroom, and I am certain I shall think of something.”

This time, as France wrapped his arms carefully around his waist and hips, as their lips brushed together in a light kiss, Austria let his façade fall for just a second.

“How is it that you always know what I want, France?” he murmured helplessly.

“I do not. I only know what you need.”


End file.
